


Lost Cause

by queen_scribbles



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Astrid's always tried to protect her little brother, even when he didn't need it. Carver's never resented it more than now.





	Lost Cause

"Have you forgiven me yet?"

Carver scowled at the table, refusing to meet her eyes. "For kidnapping me and dragging me to the arse-end of bloody nowhere just because my sweet sister asked you to? No, I haven't."

Aveline pinched the bridge of her nose and wondered absently if the pissed off Warden was _trying_  to put a grey streak in her hair. "Carver..." She smiled faintly as Donnic gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Nice to know he had her back, even if their adversary was only Carver Hawke's abysmally, stubbornly bad mood. She was trying to be patient with him, she really was, but patching things up was looking more and more like a lost cause. "I _have_  apologized for the... less than aboveboard methods. Hawke said it was important; that something was up with the Wardens and I needed to get you as far away from Ferelden and Orlais as I could, by any means necessary."

Carver snorted, absently spinning his half-empty drink. "And I s'ppose knocking me unconscious and traipsing off to bloody Wycome fits under your definition of 'any means'?"

"Yes!" Aveline snapped in exasperation. "You're just lucky I let Donnic do the honors. You were being a tit, and if I'd hit you, I probably would have caused brain damage. Honestly, I would think you'd have matured a bit more than this by now."

Greenish-brown eyes narrowed resentfully. "Who says I haven't? Maybe it's just irritating that even after _ten years_ , Astrid is still trying to take care of me, and on top of that can't even be bothered to tell me to my _face_  what's going on. She's my sister, and I love her, but she still treats me like I'm eighteen, and it's bloody annoying. If something's up with the Wardens I should be _helping her_! Not sniping at you across a cafe table in Wy-bloody-come! But no, Astrid always has to protect me, always has to help people. Sebastian's got a lost cause on his hands if he wants her to settle down. It's like she can't help herself."

"Can you blame her for wanting to keep you safe?" Aveline asked quietly once he'd finished venting. "I see your point, but the two of you are all the family you each have left."

"She-" Carver stopped himself and shook his head. "Never mind. What's done is done, right? Not like I can change it now." He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and pushed back from the table. "I'm going back to the inn. You two enjoy the peace and quiet." He stomped off, shoving up the sleeves of his worn blue shirt in a gesture Aveline well remembered as one of the top three signs he was pissed.

"Do you want to go after him?" Donnic asked as she stared after the warrior's retreating form.

"No." She shook her head. "Give him some time to cool down. And I rather like the idea of spending some uninterrupted time with you, husband."

"I feel the same, wife," Donnic grinned, and gestured the waitress over to order refills for their drinks.

>>O<<

It was another hour or so before the two of them meandered down Wycome's main street to return to the inn. When Aveline went to check on Carver, however, there was no answer. Muttering under her breath about how long the stupidity of youth was clinging to a certain mule-brained individual, she revisited the front desk to see if Carver had even actually returned to the inn. Upon receiving a brief description, the desk clerk nodded.

"Oh, yes'm. He came back. 'Bout an hour, hour an' a half ago? But there was a letter waitin' for him, an' when he read it his face got all stony an' he stormed right back out. Prob'ly wound up at the Overlook. It's a good spot for thinkin' or broodin' or cryin', whichever suits your fancy." He pointed west as you exited the inn. "It's that way, if you wanted t' go look for him."

 

"Thank you, I think I will," Aveline nodded. "If my husband comes looking for me, tell him where I went and to just wait here, would you?"

"Of course, m'lady."

The redhead nodded her thanks and headed after Carver. As the clerk had predicted, he was on the Overlook, leaning against the half-height stone wall that served as a railing and staring out at the waves, looking about ready to be sick. He barely glanced at her as she approached. "I told you I should have been helping," he commented hoarsely, and held out one hand. A crumpled letter fluttered out, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Wordlessly, Aveline took the sheet of vellum and scanned the devastatingly short missive.

_Carver-_

_I can't tell you how many times I've started over with this. There's just no way easy way to say it. Hawke's dead. She was helping Inquisitor Lavellan with a Warden-related something or other out at Adamant Fortress, and she covered the rest of the group's escape but didn't make it out herself. Sorry I don't have more details for you than that. Lavellan didn't really want to talk about it, and I can't blame him. I'm sorry, Junior. Figured you would want to know._

_-Varric_

Aveline stared at the vellum, trying to process what the words meant. "Carver..."

"What were you saying about why she would try to protect me?" He looked over at her, and it was obvious his face was wet with more than just spray from the waves.

"What good would your being there have done?" The Guard-Captain forced her voice to remain steady as she asked. _Hawke's dead..._

"I don't know, maybe I could have _helped_ , done something, maybe she wouldn't _be **dead**!_ " he roared, eyes flashing pain.

"You don't know enough to know that for certain," Aveline replied cautiously.

"I could have _tried_ ," Carver growled. "Astrid has a family, for Andraste's sake! No one would miss me terribly if I were gone, and-"

"That's not true and you know it," Aveline cut him off.

"Aveline, it is a sustainable fact that there are more people in this world who care about Astrid than care about me." A grim smile. "Not sulking about it, just stating the truth. And that's not my point, anyway."

"Then what is?" she inquired, leaning against the wall next to him.

"She's not supposed to be the one who dies! She got out, she settled down. Married the man she loved, is helping him run a country, she was supposedto be _done_! I'm a bloody _Grey Warden_ , and besides, I'm too damned selfish to be the survivor!" He hurled a small piece of loose rock from the wall out into the shifting waves and looked over at her.

And Aveline truly _looked_  at him in return. It hadn't even been two whole hours since she last saw him, and in that time he'd aged several years. On top of that, she realized with a start that the marked rise and fall of his chest wasn't simply because of his outburst.

He was crying. And not just a few tears escaping through _men don't cry_  rhetoric, _really_  crying. Aveline could count on one hand he number of times she'd seen Carver Hawke get so much as _teary_  and still have fingers left over. On the ship to Gwaren, when it sank in Bethany was gone, and on the one year anniversary of their fleeing Lothering, when she'd found him in the Hanged Man and had to drag him home before he started a fight. The latter he'd been so drunk Aveline wasn't even sure it really counted as seeing him cry. This, today, staring at him completely unsure what to say, this counted. And it broke her heart.

Carver broke the stretching silence, laughing mirthlessly as he swiped one hand against his eyes and stowed Varric's letter in his pocket. "Aveline, I'm _it_. The selfish little tit who wanted to make his own name, who wanted _out_ , is the last Hawke." He dug his hands into his hair, fingers tangling between the tied back dreadlocks, before slamming them both down against the top of the wall. "This is _not_  how I wanted to get out of her shadow," he muttered.

"Carver, you-"

"I need to go talk to Varric," he cut her off. "And this Inquisitor."

"Despite the fact your sister wanted you as far from Orlais as possible?"

"Gonna knock me out again?" There was no more venom under the challenge. He just sounded tired. "From the sound of Varric's letter, whatever danger there was to the Wardens ended in Adamant when _my sister_  died. I want some more answers than just _covering the escape and didn't make it herself_. " He raised one hand as Aveline started to protest. "We can detour past Starkhaven, see Sebastian, to give things a bit longer to clear up. Void, you and Donnic can go back to Kirkwall if you like. This is something I need to do, but I'm not gonna drag you into something you don't-"

"To the Void with _that_ ," Aveline interrupted. "Astrid may have been your sister, but she was my best friend. Some answers wouldn't go amiss. You sure you commander won't miss you?"

Carver shrugged. "No more than he does with me being 'kidnapped'. And no more than Brennan misses you."

"Point," she conceded, fully aware talking him out of this was a lost cause. The best she could do was tag along and make sure Carver didn't knock too many heads or step on too many toes in the process. Of course, that might turn out to be just as lost a cause. "So, shall we return to the inn for now, and leave in the morning with a good night's sleep?"

Carver raised an eyebrow at her. "It's not even dinner time yet."

"And you already look exhausted," she countered. "Don't fight me on this, Carver. You won't win."

The barest hint of a genuine smile played around the edges of his lips. "Wouldn't dream of it, Guard-Captain, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. You need dry clothes, and then the three of us need to plan out our route." One hand rested on the younger warrior's shoulder, equal parts encouragement and sympathy.

Carver nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Aveline pretended not to notice that his hand stayed tucked in his pocket all the way back to the inn. And the following morning as they set off, she said nothing about the muffled sobs that had filtered through the wall in the middle of the night, and pretended she didn't see the red rimming his eyes. She didn't need to acknowledge what he was clearly hoping she would ignore to help him shoulder the weight of his grief.

As they left Wycome, Aveline sent a fervent wish skyward that this search for answers was not just another lost cause. _But then again_ , she reminded herself, _the Hawkes have a way of winning even lost causes._

**Author's Note:**

> In the spirit of fairness, after being super evil to Sebastian, I went after Carver, too. I maxed out his friendship in Astrid's game; the two of them were _really_ close.


End file.
